A home in feminism

Feminism:
I think that the topic of feminism is such a touchy one for so many people; simply because they believe it to be a hate towards the male gender, or because they believe that if it doesnât affect them personally then it doesnât exist. It can be hard in this day and age to come out as being a feminist, because of the way the word âfeministâ has been made to look like a bad thing. People assume that feminism is related to hating men and wanting to be superior to them. Feminism is so much more than just this âfeudâ between that is the better gender. It is about being equal to men and respecting the choices others make for themselves. It is about respecting the gender that each individual identifies as. It is about respecting someone elseâs choice of who they want to love. It is about knowing your own worth and not settling for what the rest of the world thinks you deserve; no matter what your gender is.
With that said though, the main focus of feminism is about women because the world needs to realise that women are looked upon as inferior. Our whole lives everyone has put females under the scrutiny of â oh she has to play with dolls and like the colour pink. âI wish I had a son that I could talk to about cars,â because my mind was too invalid to the thoughts of how a car might work; unless it was a pink jeep that I could push my Barbie around in. âGirls are supposed to wear only pretty little dresses and skirts,â thatâs what my mother would always say, but only till the day I finally became a âwomenâ and suddenly I was hearing things like âdonât wear that skirt because it looks a bit too shortâ or âMaybe put on a pair of jeans so people canât see your legs,â but I thought that jeans were only for boys because that was all that you told me growing up. But that only applied until I got to the age where everyone elseâs actions would now be my fault.
If he was the one catcalling, it would still be what I was wearing in the first place. If he raised his voice and swung his fist at my face, it would still be what I must have said to provoke him. If he grabbed me when I didnât want it, it would still be how I was acting beforehand to show that I âwantedâ it. If he dragged me into an alley late at night and wouldnât listen to my screams begging him to stop, it would still be what I was wearing, it would still be how much I drank even though I was the one that was sober, it would still be whether I talked to him in the first place, it would still be my fault because âboys will be boysâ, and I should suffer the consequences of my non-existent actionsâ¦
I need feminism because when I came home one night to tell my parents that every day while walking to university, there are about 30 middle aged Indian men that look at me like Iâm a piece of meat to them. Every. Single. Day. I told them that it made me feel uncomfortable and unsafe because I donât know how these men think. I donât know what thoughts go through their minds when they look at me like that. What I really wanted to hear was my mother telling me was that I have the right to feel uncomfortable and unsafe, but instead I was hearing the words âI should stop complaining and be happy that finally someone is showing the attention I didnât get during high school.â These were the words from my own mother. This is rape culture. This is the ignorant bliss of rape culture. And if this is what we are being taught by our own family, then how is the world supposed to treat us any differently. This is the reason I need feminism. Because girls arenât supposed to feel happy by any attention that seems harmful and toxic, because I am a female doesnât mean that you have the right the mentally undress me for your own benefit, because we needs parents to understand how wrong and ignorant some of their thoughts are, and because we are more than what society wants us to be.
Jubeida Fisher